A HEART OF SHADOWS

The moment Elora’s boots touched the cracked earth, a wave of icy dread surged through her. It coiled around her spine like a living thing, sharp claws digging deep into her chest. She could feel it—a darkness that wasn’t just in the air but in her very bones. The world here wasn’t right.

The sky churned above her like an open wound, streaked with black lightning that clawed at the blood-red clouds. Each flash illuminated the barren wasteland stretching before her, littered with jagged stones and twisted, skeletal and scanty trees.

Elora’s breath came in shallow gasps. The silence was suffocating, broken only by the faintest whispers that seemed to seep up from the ground itself.

“Eloraaaaa…”

Dozens of voices layered over each other—male, female, childlike, monstrous—hissed her name with sickening familiarity and she was at a confused state.

She took a step back, but the earth cracked behind her. Pebbles tumbled into the endless abyss yawning below, their echoes swallowed by the black void. She spun around, heart hammering. There was no way out.

Then came the scent—smoke and burning iron and blood.

A shadow moved across the chasm. At first, she thought it was a trick of the flickering lightning. But then it rose—tall as a house, monstrous beyond reason. Massive claws dug into stone as it pulled itself forward. Fur as dark as tar bristled, matted with ash and dried blood. Its eyes glowed molten gold, but there was no life in them—only hunger for blood.

It opened its jaws, and black sludge dripped between jagged teeth.

The Watcher’s voice echoed in her skull, low and unrelenting. “Face the Shadow of your bloodline. Defeat it… or be devoured.”

Her knees nearly buckled. This wasn’t a fight. This was a death sentence.

Her trembling hands ignited with a faint silver glow, but the light flickered like a candle fighting a storm.

“You’re not real,” she whispered. “You’re just… part of the trial and a mere figment of my imagination."

The beast stepped closer. Claws scraped across stone with a sound like grinding bones.

“I AM YOU.”

The words boomed like thunder in her skull.

It charged.

Elora screamed and dove aside as the beast’s massive paw smashed the ground where she’d been. Shards of stone flew in all directions. She scrambled upright, panic clawing at her chest.

Her hands flared with light. She fired a blast—

The beast swatted it away like smoke.

It lunged again, jaws snapping inches from her throat. She rolled away, wincing as sharp rocks tore at her palms.

The whispers grew louder, worming into her mind:

“Weak… Useless…”

“You’ll destroy them all.”

“Just like she did.”

“No!” Elora cried, tears streaking her dirt-stained face. “I’m not like you!”

But doubt gnawed at her. Was she?

The beast struck her chest with terrifying force. Pain lanced her ribs as she flew back, slamming into a crumbling pillar. A sharp cry tore from her throat as she hit the ground, coughing blood.

Her vision swam. The beast loomed closer, each step rattling the stones beneath her.

This is it, she thought bitterly. This is how I die.

Then—

A voice, soft and broken, echoed deep in her mind.

“You are more than your blood… Fight, Elora.”

Her mother’s voice.

Elora’s eyes snapped open. The silver light surged—not just in her palms but beneath her skin, crawling like veins of liquid moonlight. Her eyes blazed like twin moons.

The beast faltered, snarling in confusion.

“You’re not my bloodline,” Elora said, her voice steadier, stronger. “You’re my curse. And I break you now.”

She rose, hands blazing brighter than ever. The air trembled around her as she unleashed everything—silver fire, pure and blinding.

The beast howled, thrashing as the light consumed it. Its form fractured like glass, cracks racing across its shadowy body until it shattered into a thousand motes of ash.

The whispers fell silent.

Elora dropped to her knees, gasping. Sweat and blood slicked her skin, her chest heaving. The silver glow in her eyes dimmed but didn’t vanish completely.

The Watcher’s voice drifted down like falling ash. “One trial complete. Two remains.”

But Elora didn’t smile. She could feel it—deep in her bones—this was only the beginning.

The ground shifted beneath her feet. Ahead, a path of black stone began to form, leading toward another colossal archway etched in glowing runes. The air there pulsed with oppressive energy, heavier than before.

Elora forced herself to stand, every muscle trembling. She wiped the blood from her lip, jaw set with grim determination.

“I’m not done yet.”

Meanwhile — Back in Silverfang Territory (Joel’s POV)

Joel’s fist slammed into the training post again and again until blood slicked his knuckles. Each strike reverberated through the clearing like thunder. The pack watched in silence from the shadows. None dared approach—not when their Alpha’s golden eyes burned so fiercely.

“She’s alone,” Joel growled under his breath. “She’s fighting, and I can’t even—”

“Joel.”

The voice cut through the night like a blade. Elder Maren stepped into the clearing, her cane tapping softly against the earth. She looked so small against Joel’s towering form, yet her presence stilled him.

“You can’t save her from this,” Maren said. “But you can prepare for her return.”

Joel’s shoulders trembled, claws digging deep furrows into the dirt. “What if she doesn’t return?”

Maren’s pale eyes softened. “Then the prophecy dies… and so does this pack.”

Joel’s jaw tightened. He looked to the moon, its pale light washing over his battle-worn face.

“Elora… survive. For both of us.”

A distant howl split the night—anguished and haunting. Joel’s head snapped up, his hackles rising. Trouble was coming.

He turned sharply toward the tree line. A pair of glowing red eyes watched from the darkness—silent, patient.

Joel bared his teeth, his growl low and warning. “Show yourself.”

The eyes vanished, leaving only the scent of blood lingering in the air.

Joel’s chest constricted. This wasn’t just about Elora anymore. Something was hunting them all.